“Never mind about that,” I said, “I want to talk to you about Andasca.”
“Andasca?” He stopped tying his face in knots and stared at me. “What do you mean? What do you know about Andasca?”
“I know what you’ve got on him” I said, cautiously, “and I know Kruger wants you to lay off.”
He sat down abruptly, “How do you know?”
“Kruger told me. Now listen, Mr. Maddox, forget the twenty-five grand. Alter all this paper can afford to lose twenty-five grand once in a while…”
I thought that would start him all over again, but Harriet anchored him to his chair.
“Kruger’s framed Shumway’s daughter with murder. Unless he gets those photos he’s going to give her to the cops. He wants me to get those prints from you and in return he’ll turn the girl loose,” I went on. “He’s got enough on the girl to send her to the chair.”
Maddox drew in a long, deep breath. “So you want those photos, do you?” he repeated, struggling to get the words out. “You want to give them to Kruger, do you? Well, you’re not having them! I don’t care if he’s got enough to send every man, woman and child in this country to the chair! Do you understand that?”
I didn’t expect anything else. “Now, look, Mr. Maddox,” I said, “can I give you the whole story? Will you listen?”
“Will I listen?” he snarled, “why do you think I sent for you? Do you think I wanted to look on your cretinish face?”